The cafe was filled with the aroma of bitter coffee and the quiet hiss of an espresso machine. Large glass windows overlooked the city street—traffic lights, people passing by, a world that never truly stopped.

Evan Crossland stood in front of the menu board. And… he paused for too long. His eyes scanned the menu. Single origin. Cold brew. Oat milk latte. Pour-over. Flat white.

"Shit, there are too many options," he muttered to himself and scratched the back of his head. Normally he would just order an Americano, but today he wanted to try something different.